


Where You Rest Your Bones

by fansofcollisions



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship, actually far more angsty than I originally intended, could be read as just friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 22:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2166699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fansofcollisions/pseuds/fansofcollisions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A community alert forces Mako to stay the night at Haru’s. Under any other circumstances, this would probably be a dream come true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where You Rest Your Bones

They’re almost ready to pack their books away when Mako’s phone _ping_ s. He checks the display, expecting to find Nagisa’s name there. Like Haru and himself and the rest of his class, the second years have standardized testing tomorrow and Nagisa has been worrying himself sick over it for weeks. It wouldn’t shock him if he was roped into at least one more last minute study session before the morning.

But it’s not Nagisa’s name that flashes across his screen. “Huh?” Mako clicks the button below the smiling picture of his mother. She never texts him unless it’s to ask him to pick up his brother or sister from school, and it’s nearly ten at night. What could she want?

The message is short, but it sets Mako’s heart pounding all the same. _*News report tonight. Strangler in area. Stay put.*_

“Haru.” Blue eyes glance up over a landslide of textbooks and scribbled notes. Mako passes the phone across the table to him. He’s not sure what he's expecting to see on Haru's face. Shock? Fear? The masked man suspected in the murder of five people in the last month alone has been all anybody's talked about for weeks. There's no way Haru hasn't heard about him, or the manhunt that’s systematically shut down quadrant after quadrant of the city.

But as always, Haru’s expression is unreadable. He finishes scanning the text and passes the phone back to Mako without a flicker of discernable emotion.

Mako is sure his own feelings are more than obvious. If his worried eyes doesn’t give it away, the way he fumbles the phone as he takes it from Haru’s hand, nearly dropping it in his water glass, surely betrays his distraction. He should be at home. He _needs_ to go home. Ren and Ran, they weren’t out tonight, right? He wracks his brain, but he can’t remember. What if one of them is walking back from a friend’s house? They don’t have cell phones. They wouldn’t know.

Haru’s place isn’t too far from his house. He’ll just run all the way there, never mind the sour pit of dread in his throat at the thought of facing the streets alone. He stands up and starts shoving his things into his bag. When he’s finished, neatly organized revision schedules and colour coded notes are crumpled into wadded up masses of paper and strewn atop of a pile of textbooks. The crevasses between books are stuffed with a scattering of the cue cards he spent so long carefully arranging only an hour before.

He makes a beeline for the door, bag falling off his shoulder onto his elbow as he races. Haru beats him to it. Mako nearly runs into his back, but he recoils back when he hears the lock click.

“Haru? I have to go.”

Haru turns his head and looks at him with blank eyes. “It’s safer here.”

Mako shakes his head. “I can’t leave my family out – “

Haru gestures to the phone still clenched in Mako’s hand. “The text said to ‘stay put’,” he explains, like this should be self-evident and Mako is simply being stubborn. But he’s not the one-

Haru makes a grab for the phone.

“Hey!” he protests, but when Haru’s hand catches his own he lets him pry it from his grasp. The other boy starts pressing keys with a look of deep concentration. After a few moments, the phone makes another _ping_ , and he hands it back to Mako.

_*They’re asleep. We’re fine. We’ll text you with any updates. Be safe.*_

He doesn’t have to look in his Sent box to guess the contents of Haru’s message. Mako rubs the back of his neck, feeling a little foolish. A pretty obvious solution, but he’s never been very good at thinking in scary situations.

“Thanks.” Haru inclines his head and walks back to the table to start arranging his own things into tidy piles.

It’s times like these Mako wishes Haru was a normal human being who owned a television or radio or any sort of conduit to the outside world. But the walls are clear and apart from their cell phones, they’re cut off. No way of knowing what’s going on outside. And it’s not like the latch on the door is anything spectacular. Anyone determined enough could force their way in.

Seized with a sudden thought, Mako dashes to the wall and flips off the light switch. Though Haru doesn’t make a sound when the room goes black, Mako can practically feel him stiffen.

“Why are the lights out?”

“Safer,” Mako says. But he doesn’t feel safer. He can barely see Haru’s outline across the room, cast in the faint blue glow of moonlight from the window. A shadow shifts against the wall and Mako’s stomach leaps before he realizes it’s only Haru taking a step forward. Mako pulls out his phone and presses a key, blanketing his bare feet in the shine from the screen. Soon enough a second pair of feet step into the patch of light.

Haru looks up at him. For a second, Mako thinks he’s going to say something comforting and he almost laughs – hysterical as that laugh might be – at the thought. Platitudes aren’t Haru’s style, and he’s not surprised when after a moment his eyes drop away. He’s not expecting him to soothe his rapidly fraying nerves. That’s Mako’s job: to keep everyone calm, to keep everyone happy. To keep them safe.

“We should go to bed.” _Sleep? How can he possibly think of sleeping?_ Mako wants to stay up until his mother texts him again, however long that takes, and he says as much, but Haru is insistent. “We have tests tomorrow. You need to sleep.”

The tests. He’d almost forgotten. They could make or break his university applications. A poor mark might cost him his whole future.

“… Okay,” he concedes. He doesn’t think he’ll even be able to shut his eyes, but he has to try.

“Mm.” With that settled, Haru turns and disappears into the pitch black hallway, leaving Mako standing awkwardly in the middle of the darkened room. Not sure what else to do, he chases after Haru. After crashing into an end table and knocking a stack of books onto the floor, he gives up on walking normally and feels his way along the wall with both hands, following the path his friend had taken.

“Haru?” he calls into the bedroom at the end of the hall. But the bed is made and unruffled. The light from the window discloses the emptiness of the room.

Trying not to let his paranoia get the better of him, Mako decides to try bathroom. Maybe he’s brushing his teeth. That would be logical. The door isn’t closed, so figures he’s guessed correctly and steps into the room.

“Har- wha-!” He’s in the bathroom alright, and already halfway undressed. Mako’s feet get tangled in the discarded uniform shirt on the floor as he trips towards his rapidly disrobing friend. “Haru!” he hisses, grabbing his arm before he can finish pulling off his slacks. “What are you _doing?_ ”

Haru looks at the tub, then glances at Mako.

“You are _not_ taking a bath right now!”

“I always take a bath at night.” Which… yes, Mako believes that. But that doesn’t for a second mean he wants Haru half naked and vulnerable if a psychopath decides to break down their door.

“Come on-“ he chides, but Haru yanks his arm out of his grip. With a speed he’d thought reserved for jet engines and drag races, the pants are off and Haru’s splashing his way into the tub. He makes a grab for the escaped limb but Haru slides to the back of the tub and wraps his arms around his knees, making himself as small as possible. Mako glares at Haru. Haru glares back.

And then suddenly he snorts, and the snort turns into a giggle, and then a laugh. Oh god, there’s a killer on the loose and he’s here arguing with his best friend, the world’s oldest five year old, about how it’s time to get out of the tub. Haru’s petulant look drifts into one of confusion and that just makes Mako laugh more.

He sinks down to his knees beside the bath and lays his cheek against the porcelain. “I guess if he gets us, at least you’ll die in your natural habitat.” Haru seems pleased at that. Mako snorts one more time and closes his eyes, letting his hand slip into the cool water.

A dog barks somewhere in the distance, and then falls silent. Mako ignores it and focuses on the lap of the ripples against the side of the tub. He wills himself to find a little of Haru’s serenity in the feeling of the water against his skin.

It doesn’t work. All he can think about is how there should be conversations on the street, the squeak of a bicycle’s wheels, a drunken curse, and instead there’s _nothing_. Nothing but the night air and his own rapid breathing. He needs to get a hold of himself.

After a few minutes the water shifts and he feels fingers trace the outside of his palm – hesitant, testing – before they slide between his own. He opens his eyes to find Haru staring at their entwined hands.

“We aren’t going to die.”

He swallows. “I know. I was joking.”

“We aren’t,” he says, more instantly.

“I know,” Mako repeats. All the laughter is gone, but he tries to summon a smile at least. He tightens his grip on Haru’s hand, and closes his eyes, and prays for his phone to ring.

Perhaps out of courtesy to his unintended guest, Haru only stays in the bath a couple minutes more before separating his hand from Mako’s and pulling himself out of the water. His eyes have adjusted enough by now for him to see Haru plainly – a statuesque figure with bowed head silhouetted against the faint line where tile and plaster meet, every part of him dripping but his dark hair. Mako stands and grabs a towel off the wall.

On the way to the bedroom he only cracks his shoulder against one unexpected corner, which is something of a victory. Once inside Mako goes to the closet and starts pulling out sheets and a few thin blankets from the bin at the bottom.

He’s made a huge mess of the crisply folded linens, Haru watching silently from the doorway, before a hand on his elbow stops him. “What are you doing?”

He blinks. “Sorry… is this ok? I’m just going to go make up my bed on the sofa-“

“You’ll be uncomfortable on the sofa.” _And the door will be right there, nowhere to run._ “You need to rest.”  

“No, that’s really fine-“ he says, a bubble of nervous laughter rising in his throat.

“We can share.”

Mako looks dubiously at the single mattress.

“I don’t-“

“We used to share,” Haru reminds him. _We did. When I was two feet shorter and still played with toy fire trucks._ But Haru’s voice sounds almost… apprehensive? Mako’s sure he’s reading it wrong; he doesn’t believe for a second that Haru is frightened. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen him frightened of anything.

All the same, he’d really rather not spend the night in another room. Alone.

“If you’re sure…”

Instead of replying, Haru steps into the corner and starts peeling off his wet swimsuit. Makoto turns around, trying to preserve his friend’s modesty – not that Haru seems to care much. He half expects when he turns back to see Haru in another familiar black ensemble, violet stripes reflecting the light from the window, but he finds himself staring instead at a body clad in a matching top-and-bottom set of cotton pajamas. It’s hard to tell the colour in the dimness, but he guesses they’re probably blue: a deep blue, like the colour of the sea after a storm. Haru’s arms hang limply at his sides.

Mako hasn’t seen Haru in real sleepwear since they were young enough for their mothers to be picking out their clothes. He seems more naked now than he did in the bath. Younger, somehow, and Mako’s insides swoop like he’s stepped off an escalator and missed his footing. He sits down on the bed, waiting for Haru to join him there. _Just like old times._

As Haru settles down beside him, he loosens his tie and places it gently on the chair at the head of the bed. His mother would have a fit if she knew the wrinkled state his shirt would be in tomorrow morning, but it can’t be helped. The pants he kicks off, however. The pleats will be impossible to iron back in if he sleeps on them, and boxers are close to shorts anyways, so it shouldn’t matter.

Still, he feels gangly and awkward perched on the bed next to Haru, who carries off his sleep ensemble with the dignified lack of self-consciousness he’s always envied. “We should check the door,” he says, tensing his shoulders as he glances toward the dark hallway. But before he can insist on the _we_ part, Haru’s out of the room, abandoning Mako alone with his cell phone and feeling more awful than ever. He fires off a quick text to his mother while he waits. Her response doesn’t come after a few seconds like the last time. He tells himself that’s nothing to worry about.

By the time Haru returns, Mako’s pressed against the wall under the covers, trying to take up as little space as his extensive limbs will allow. He keeps the cell phone clutched in his right hand. Haru slides in beside him, keeping carefully to his own side of the narrow mattress. Even so, there’s nothing more than a few inches between them.

Haru closes his eyes immediately, which leaves Mako to stare at the silent phone. Inwardly apologizing for the bright glare that spills over the bed and across Haru’s face, he flips it open to check again. Still nothing.

He’s reluctant to close the phone once it’s open. In the electric light at least he can see how Haru’s hair falls into his eyes, tousled and soft and everywhere, and it feels familiar. He remembers lying on another bed, blocks and blocks and blocks from here, and Haru’s hair was wet then, staining the yellow pillowcase with the proof of their illicit late night dip in the neighbour’s pool. He hadn’t wanted to go swimming, was scared of the big dog chained in the yard and the rake leaning on the side of the house, but he never could say no to his solemn friend with the big eyes. He wants to be a kid again, and whisper all his fears to Haru in the dark, and tug a strand of hair just to make him bat Mako’s hand away. He always wanted to see if he could tease a smile from him, Haru’s sleepy expression just moments before drifting off the most unguarded he’d ever seen it.

He blinks again, and he sees a kid lying on the bed next to him, but instead of raven locks strewn over slender fingers he sees mousy brown hair and chubby fists, and a figure creeping through the shifting shadows on the wall, almost close enough lay a hand on his little brother’s shoulder.

No new messages. He flips the phone closed and presses his knuckles to his forehead. He clenches his eyes shut, squeezing the plastic in his hand till he can feel the casing begin to warp. _In, out_. His mother’s probably just asleep. She has to go in early to work tomorrow. Ran and Ren are safe in their beds. Haru checked the door, nobody’s coming in.

His grip on the phone relaxes. He opens his eyes, and Haru’s still got his closed. But between them on the bed rests an outstretched palm where there wasn’t one before. Suddenly Mako feels all of eight again. His bottom lip begins to tremble as he takes the hand with his own.

“Haru-chan?” he whispers. Haru squeezes his hand and he curls in just a little closer, still careful to keep the distance between them.

Sleep just won’t come. Finally, he gives up trying at all and lays there, side cramping from holding the same position for so long. Haru is peaceful in sleep, lips parted just slightly, dark eyelashes fluttering. The house creaks, old wood crackling in the nighttime chill. The phone hasn’t rung.

Mako allows a tear to slip down the side of his nose onto the pillowcase: a dark grey stain, washed out in the pale light of the stars. Another follows it, and suddenly he’s shuddering with the effort of trying to hold back a sob. _Please let him be caught, please let them be ok, please-_

Strong arms grab him and pull him across the bed and for one hysterical moment he thinks they missed the intruder’s approach but no. It’s Haru’s blue pajama’s his face is clutched against. It’s the scent of the ocean in his hair, and the solidity of his chest, and the soft pulse of his breath against Mako’s cheek. He shifts his head and glances up through blurry eyes and sees Haru’s blue stare, awake and alert and understanding.

Mako’s feet are off the end of the bed and his arm is crunched into an ungodly position beneath his hip but he can’t bring himself to move an inch. He wants to apologize for getting the front of Haru’s pajamas all wet, but then again, he’s sure like all his friend’s clothes even these have ended up in the water at some point. So instead, he leans forward and ducks his head beneath Haru’s chin, and lets himself be held until the tears subside, until his exhausted body overpowers his fear and he falls into a restless sleep.

At 4:32 AM, the phone _ping_ s. He might not have woken had the phone not buzzed within his hand. The police have the strangler: a tip from an undertaker, a lucky break. His brother and sister are still asleep, oblivious to the entire night’s proceedings. Everything’s fine.

He snaps the phone shut but not before the light reflects the glint of bleary eyes. “Haru?” he murmurs. “You awake?”

Haru mumbles something unintelligible, then rolls himself half on top of Mako and starts snoring. Mako grins and pulls him closer, nuzzling his nose into Haru’s hair. _This feels safe._ He falls asleep with a smile on his face, relief mixed up in happiness and warmth and the rise and fall of Haru’s chest against his. By the time the last trace of consciousness leaves him, their heartbeats are perfectly in sync.

**Author's Note:**

> This was just supposed to be a cute little ficlet about sharing a bed. And then, like a lot of my writing, it got REALLY SAD REALLY QUICKLY. I swear, I'm incapable of writing anything purely happy.


End file.
